The world so beautiful, the white clouds and bright sky.
The different flowers, trees, and animals. How all the different people looked so different with their own styles and colours.
The colourful world before stands so bright and unique.
How everything was open and so many new experiences in the city and the new adventures in the country. How the two varied so.
I would pick up my canvas and take it around. The country grasses a fresh green painted with water colours and oil paints depending on the atmosphere. Bringing the world to life in a motionless picture maybe made with ink.
The city would be so difficult, the everchanging atmosphere and busy roads, yet a still image felt so alive.
Slowly something changed, the world felt motionless.
Just like a picture on a canvas.
As the world stopped feeling alive, my vision turned blue.
I continued to paint, but the world seemed blended in an ultramarine shade, showing in my art.
A new blue world?
They would say this looking upon my work.
It was not a new world, it was a dying world, it was a dying heart.
The changing times had started to wear me thin and left me in the deep sea.
A world of blue before me.
It the colours of the grass blended into the colour of the sea and sky, the different shades and range showing their differences.
But it felt still, emotionless.
Then came a strange day.
A strange girl with hair blending to the background and blank eyes.
She would appear to the places I painted and watch as the brush stroked the canvas, as I would examine the world from my blue stained view.
She would often come close and look at the finished work up close, I couldn't read her expression as her eyes were blank in the blue.
Then one day she said something,
How do you show the depth of emotion through one colour, multiple shades of one colour. How do you show that sadness and emptiness.
I looked at her with shock at first, she could read what I was seeing.
Your work is truly amazing.
My chest felt warm.
She grabbed my hand; I know what you're seeing. A world of blue, nothing but multiple shades of it. My world was blue too, until I saw you paint the same emotions I felt onto the canvas.
The blue in my vision began to lighten as she spoke.
She had opened the vault of colours through her confiding.
As colour came back, her pale skin showed,
The colourful scenery behind her with wild green grass.
Her hair was light blue, flowing in the wind,
Her eyes as blue as the summer sky.
How she had opened my world, and now the world of blue looks back at me,
The blue that I've come to love.